


Run Away With(out) Me

by Lux (intothemidnightblue)



Series: Ficlets [9]
Category: SMPLive, Video Blogging RPF, Wilbur Soot - Fandom, jschlatt - Fandom
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, nice woodland adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothemidnightblue/pseuds/Lux
Summary: Schlatt wandered through park aimlessly, having entered through the backwoods on the other side. He flipped through Twitter without care, hopping the old stone foundation and sitting next to Wilbur.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: Ficlets [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/792744
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	Run Away With(out) Me

**Author's Note:**

> The casual romance of a good friendship is? My jam.  
> no beta

Wilbur let out a cold breath. He was bundled in old park, leaning on some old infrastructure, looking out for anyone who could tell him he wasn’t supposed to be here. He jumped to sit upon the little ledge, just enough space between his feet and the ground to kick loosely at the rock.

Schlatt wandered through park aimlessly, having entered through the backwoods on the other side. He flipped through Twitter without care, hopping the old stone foundation and sitting next to Wilbur.

“You bring anything good?” Schlatt asked, shouldering Wilbur, thick coats scratching between them.

“Not this time,” Wilbur smiled at him lightly.

“You can’t expect me to hang out with you sober,” Schlatt scoffed. Wilbur shoulder checked him back. “Joking,” Schlatt put up his hands in defeat, regaining his balance on the ledge.

“What do you wanna do?” Wilbur asked, hopping off the ledge and walking towards the pathway cutting through the tall grass and outcrops of stone. Schlatt jumped to follow.

“I’m good just walking tonight,” Schlatt caught up beside him.

They walked in silence for a track. Wilbur kicked a stone, Schlatt kicked it back. They devolved into a small game of kickball with the little pebble, eventually watching it fall to the creek. Wilbur looked at Schlatt, who looked back. He led the way into the backwoods, to the creek. There was a small treehouse near the water that trickled from some sewage pipe farther away. The treehouse was falling apart, dilapidated and crumbling.

“What if I dyed my hair?” Schlatt said, pulling at the rope that was supposed to lead them up. He was tall enough to open the hatch of the treehouse from here, and pull himself up without the rope with a few well-placed jumps and a little help from the trunk of the tree. The wood creaked with the effort, but it was sturdy enough as Schlatt scrambled up.

“What color?” Wilbur used the rope, with a foot at the trunk to boost him up, gripping the wood and climbing with a bit more grace than Schlatt’s more mad scramble.

“Red or something. Maybe green,” Schlatt mumbled, making room, sitting cross-legged on the groaning wood.

“I like green, maybe not your whole head though,” Wilbur said, sitting in front of him, grabbing a stick and playing with the bark. It had a small little leave on it that came off easily. He gifted it to Schlatt’s knee. Schlatt took it, ripping it along the middle with a fresh crunch, tearing it into smaller pieces as they talked.

“Doing one streak is like, pussy shit,” Schlatt peppered Wilbur with the pieces of green when he had finished ripping the leaf to shreds. Wilbur held out his hands to the gift that showered around him.

“A streak in the front is pretty bold,” Wilbur debated.

“Nah, I’m not gunna,” Schlatt decided.

“You should, if you want,” Wilbur said, ripping off a twig from the branch he held like a wishbone. He handed one half to Schlatt, who picked at it. Wilbur held his small twig like a little sword. Schlatt knocked his against Wilbur’s, knocking it to the ground below. Wilbur scooted to swing his legs off the side.

“Sing me something pretty,” Schlatt three his twig at Wilbur’s head, hitting the target. He leaned back, fingertips off the edge of the small deck that was essentially all that was left of the small treehouse.

“I don’t have my guitar,” Wilbur said, failing to dodge Schlatt’s projectile. Touching the side of his head where the small twig had caught in his hair by the burrs of the bark, pulling it out easily.

“Since when has that stopped you,” Schlatt asked, leaning forward now, holding out a hand for the twig. Wilbur handed it to him. Schlatt three of at his head again, missing this time as Wilbur dodged.

“Ha, fuck you,” Wilbur laughed.

“I’ll get you next time,” Schlatt pretended to pick up a twig and toss it, Wilbur flinching. Schlatt opened his palms to reveal nothing. Wilbur rolled his eyes.

“I missed us,” Schlatt said, an air of noncommittance.

“Yeah,” Wilbur said.

“We should hang more,” Schlatt added.

“Definitely,” Wilbur said. Schlatt was silent. He played with the dirt under his fingernails as they listened to the night.

“Come over next time you’re hopping the pond,” Schlatt said, “you wouldn’t have to get a hotel.”

“Maybe,” Wilbur said. He breathed out cool air, watching it float away to nothing. He hid his hands in his sleeves.

“What’s up?” Schlatt knocked Wilbur’s elbow with his hand.

“I missed you, but I don’t think I’ll be back for a while,” Wilbur admitted.

“That’s fine. We’re still friends dude,” Schlatt promised.

“Yeah,” Wilbur said.

“Don’t go leaving me now,” Schlatt grabbed Wilbur’s jacket before he could make the jump off the side. Schlatt scooted to sit next to him, feet hanging off beside Wilbur’s. Wilbur hesitated, but jumped the distance to the ground, landing fairly hard on his feet.

“He sticks the landing,” Schlatt joked. Wilbur flopped him off lightly, patting his legs to taunt Schlatt down like a dog. Schlatt jumped down and tackled Wilbur.

“Watch it!” Wilbur laughed as they fell to the earth. Schlatt fell beside Wilbur, both of them adjusting to stare at the sky through the trees. A bird took flight in the boughs, sound echoing around them. Schlatt turned to Wilbur, memorizing his friend in the moment. Wilbur closed his eyes and ignored him, putting to memory the feeling of the earth around him and the sound of Schlatt’s calm breath beside him.

“Schlatt,” Wilbur said after a while.

“Yeah?” Schlatt said, turning to face the rest of his body to Wilbur. Wilbur did the same, smiling at the leaf that drifted onto Schlatt’s face and picking it off him. Wilbur paused.

“I’ll _make_ time for you... but you know how it be,” Wilbur said.

“I know,” Schlatt whispered, moving back to face the sky. It was Wilbur’s turn to memorize every second of the moment. Schlatt blushed at the attention, laughing.

“We’re not dying,” Schlatt said to the air.

“It feels like it,” Wilbur faced the sky again too.

They lay like that, looking up at the treetops. Dust floated down to them. Fresh air blew through the trees and the sewage creek babbled. Wilbur breathed out another cool breath and laughed. Schlatt looked over and smiled, getting up and brushing himself off. Wilbur stayed there for a moment, until Schlatt offered his hand. He took it, trying to pull Schlatt back down. They contested their strength, equaling somewhere in the middle before they leaned in to come into a hug.

They walked out together, pausing at the edge of the woods as passing headlights faded from view.

“I’ll drive you home?” Wilbur asked.

“Nah,” Schlatt said, and parted ways with a wave. Wilbur waved back, watching him leave, before walking to his car by the side of the road. He gave another glance back at the darkened forest. Schlatt was gone though.

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone in my film class had a sewage creek it’s surprisingly common. 
> 
> talk to me in the comments!  
> I wanna see if fics can rlly compete w/out a relationship tag so comments and kudos appreciated more than usual.


End file.
